OK. Some of you wanted to hear a bit more about the story behind the unusual opportunity I had to take a drift boat down the upper Cedar River in the highly restricted access area of the City of Seattle Watershed. While I’m sure some of you have your own nefarious reasons for wanting to hear the story about this very secret place, I will also admit to having my own reasons for wanting to tell it.

As far as taking credit for being the first, the only or even the last person to have ever dipped an oar in these chaste waters, I could care less. Anyone who has entered this solemn sanctuary will understand that it is simply enough just to have been there. Anyone who knew the dedicated individuals that made it possible for this dream trip to come true are also aware that these folks didn’t do it for me; they did it for us. Perhaps you too have been inside the inner sanctum of the Cedar River? Or maybe you too have had the pleasure of knowing this self-sacrificing group of guys or others like them? If so, then we are equally blessed!

However, talking about the Cedar River does not come easy for me these days, notwithstanding the many precious memories I still have of her and her magnificent fish. It doesn’t seem that long ago I was catching 20# steelhead and watching thousands of sockeye run through my backyard in Maple Valley. But today, one look in the current regulations should bring a tear to the eye of anyone who would call himself a steelheader. The Cedar River now has the dubious distinction of being the only western river in the state of Washington that is completely CLOSED to all fishing, of any kind! Although there are many sad stories about the sorry state of some of our once great steelhead waters throughout the northwest, none compare to the collapse of the Cedar. That is why I was so uplifted today by a previous post that indicated the WDFW is considering the possibility of reopening it for CNR. Phoenix rising from the ashes? Hope springs eternal.

It wasn’t like no one was paying attention to what was happening to the Cedar. The Cedar was certainly no stranger to controversy and the troubles involving her salmon and steelhead runs have been widely publicized and highly politicized too. But it was as though everyone stood there like a deer in the headlights while she slipped away. But actually, not everyone stood by. There was a small but very dedicated group that refused to give up. They continued to work tirelessly to do whatever they could to save or improve the salmon and steelhead runs of the Cedar. And it was through their efforts and my good fortune that I would find myself within the hidden recesses of the Cedar’s soul. But what I experienced I could not have prepared for. This I can only describe as shock and awe.

But maybe you already know what I’m talking about?

Hasta Manana